Sandstorms and Solitude
by Delvman
Summary: A tale of one lonely rodian's journeys through the desolate deserts of Tatooine
1. Introduction

** One foot in front of the other. That's how it'd been. That's how it'd always been. There was never any shelter, there had never been home for him. He'd hoped, he'd prayed, he'd killed, but at the end of the day he was the one who had lost everything but his cat, and his wits. Not like he had much to start with anyways. **

_'Hard to believe I'm only Seventeen' _**Naerk thought.**

** Seventeen, but he already felt like he'd lived a lifetime. He'd loved, he'd lost. He'd given his all, and got nothing back. He'd felt the thin strands of happiness, only to have them torn away... And damn near got himself killed in the process. And like a coward, he ran. Ran to the only place that's ever been home to him.**

_'Tatooine. Galaxy's kriffhole, if ever there was one.'_** he thought with more than a little irony.**

** Sun that could scorch the skin right off you if you weren't careful, sandstorms that could rip you to pieces in ten seconds flat, and sand hot enough to cook your feet inside and out. Home sweet home, right? Well, it was for him. Sure it was dangerous, but Naerk didn't care. He'd lived here so long that he was used to it.**

** Everything the desert had thrown at him, he had conquered. But back in the cities with others, he was an awkward uncomfortable rodian, who could barely hold a conversation, but out here he was the Master. But even so, what struck him the hardest was the loneliness. So many people he'd known, or used to know. Nesrik, Seliik, Jeevik, Vida, Lumnor, Sasham etc. Some had come and gone from his life with no more effect than a grain of sand dropped in the desert. Others had changed everything. But the one common thread running between them all, was that they were all there. Out here, all he had was himself, and Kzu. Sandstorms and Solitude.**

_ "Well kriff." _**Naerk said aloud**_ "that's enough daydreaming."_

** With a groan, Naerk leveraged himself off of his back, and onto his hands, taking a second to rustle about the tiny tent until he grasped his rifle before awkwardly crawling out, the rifle cradled against his chest. Overhead, he felt the twin suns bore down on his bare head, their harsh rays already starting to suck the precious moisture out of his body. With one hand, Naerk slung his helmet onto his head, the long strips of cloth falling over his body to completely cover his neck and shoulders. From head to toe, he was completely covered in his raggedy cloth, not even an inch of his tanned green skin exposed to the harsh sunlight.**

_ "Sandstorms, and Solitude..." _**Naerk said with a grin only he could see**_,"sounds like a kriffing book."_

** And with one step after another, his rifle in hand he kept on walking, as a few feet away a panther almost bigger than him jumps up from where it was sleeping next to his tent, and bounds after him. Behind them, a lazy wind blows, slowly sweeping away their footprints, leaving no trace of them, but the tiny, lonely tent.**


	2. An average day

** The blazing suns bored into the back of the stringy Eopie. It was just past double noon, and blazing hot. The young Eopie was used to it though, it'd been out in the Jundland wastes for over a week now. His pack had been one of many in the Wastes to be gunned down by the tuskens of this place, this Eopie escaping by pure luck. But this story was not unique, this Eopie was just one of the many victims of the merciless desert or it's inhabitants.******

** The Eopie paused. Up ahead of him, wedged into the ground of the gorge he was walking, was a bowl. A bowl of water! Spurred into motion by the amazing opportunity, the Eopie took a few cautious steps towards it, and then stopped. Looking around nervously, the Eopie took a few more steps, then a few more. Until finally the Eopie was slowly leaning down into the bowl, it's mouth open expectantly for the cool feeling of the water against it's lips...******

_CRACK!_** Came the blast of a Tusken Cycler. The Eopie slumped against the canyon wall dead, a round through it's head.******

** Naerk let out a whoop of joy, and leaped out of hiding spot forty feet feet down the canyon.******

** He'd waited there three hours, risked a good portion of his water supply, but it had finally paid off! With another whoop, Naerk ran towards the still fresh kill, the tattered sun cloth of his over-robe fluttering out behind his feet, casually dropping his rifle in it's harness on his back. A kill this big would keep him and Kzuttektt fed for at least a week!******

** Naerk skid to a stop on the rough sand, dropping to his knees next to the kill, drawing his knife. Scavenged iron fitted atop a crude wooden handle did not a good knife make, but nevertheless, Naerk flips the Eopie on its back, and positions his knife at it's sternum. With careful precision, he slowly inserts his blade and with almost tedious care saws the blade through the skin down towards it's...******

_BANG!_****

** Naerk jerked in shock, and whipped his head skyward in time to catch sight of a flaming ship come barreling out of the sky flying over his head with a thunderous **_**'Whoosh'**_**. Naerk sat in the sand for several seconds, his heart beating wildly out of shock while in the distance he heard a dull 'thud' as the ship collided with soft desert sand. Letting out a deep breath as the shock of the moment passes, Naerk turns his gaze back to the dead animal...******

_'Motherkriffer!'_** he yells, throwing his knife into the sand in disgust. In his surprise, he had jerked, rupturing the gut sack, but more specifically, puncturing it's colon, and contaminating the meat. He had wasted perfectly good water, for nothing.******

** Wiping his hands on his robes, and feeling sick to his stomach at the pointless waste, Naerk lifts himself to his feet. At this point it seemed he had two choices. Waste **_**more**_** kriffing water and spend another three hours, hoping to get lucky... Or, kriff it, and go out to the crash, hopefully before the Jawa's or the Tusken's could strip it clean. ******

** Naerk let out a sigh, mentally checking his location, with where it looked like the ship was heading. It looked like it was heading south... Which would put it right at the border of the Dune Sea. Not a long trek all-in-all, probably only an hour if he double timed it...******

_'Crunch!' _**he called out sharply in his native rodese, as he turned south in the canyon, and started jogging towards the wreck. Behind him, his Panther leaped up from where he had been resting, faithfully bounding after his master.**


End file.
